Into the Darkness II : Lost
by Aslan1
Summary: Buffy finally wakes up but is it in enough time to make a difference?
1. Into the Darkness II : Lost (1/2)

From: Aslan (aslan_g@lycos.com)  
  
Title: ITD: II - LOST  
  
Series/Sequel: Into The Darkness  
  
Author: Aslan  
  
E-mail: aslan_g@lycos.com  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: Buffy finally wakes up but is it too late to make a difference?  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the BTVS Characters, Joss Whedon, The WB and Mutant Enemy own them, etc, etc. I only own the story and any original characters I create along the way.  
  
Distribution: If you want it, please ask. And let me know where it is.  
  
Feedback: Does Riley love cows? Laws, yes!  
  
Spoilers: Umm…Not really. Anya's gone. She flew away, somewhere without letting me know where. Xander's still living in the basement. Buffy is with Riley. Spike's still chipped.  
  
Author's Note: My computer ate my first draft of this. gggrrrrrrrrr!!!!! It was way better.  
  
  
  
  
  
Into The Darkness II: Lost  
  
  
  
It was still dark when she awoke with a bang. From the depths of unconsciousness to wakefulness in a moments notice, a tight knot of pain wrapped around her chest as restricting as the sheets now twisted around her naked legs. The discomfort moved from burning pressure to chest compressing torture before she could make any move to wake her companion. Back arched in agony her hands fisted the sheets in a painful grip. Sharp fingernails dug bloody crescents into the sweaty flesh of her palms while the scent of blood hung low and crawled along her body raising gooseflesh in it's wake. Even as she fought for breath to scream her mind helpfully pointed out that the scent was too strong to be accounted for by the fresh marks on her hands. She wished fervently that Riley would wake up before the pain in her chest killed her, so she could ask him if he could smell it too. But in the back of her mind where her slayer instincts were constantly on alert, she knew he would sense nothing.  
  
This was for her and her alone.  
  
It was a slayer thing. Riley would neither appreciate nor understand it. Not that she did either.  
  
She fought back the pain and the darkness that suddenly brought to mind the horror of a crypt rather than the safeness of her bedroom…It figured that she couldn't find one iota of safety, not even in her own goddamn bed at night.  
  
With a tortured gasp she tried to force breath past her lips to form some kind of sound but nothing came. Lights flashed beyond her closed eyelids as fear wrapped itself tightly around her mind.  
  
Panic. Blind panic. She was suddenly so afraid. Was she going to die? Tonight? Like this? No monsters, no big evil come to squash the slayer, just her own traitorous body denying her air. Dazed, panicked…Jumping at shadows and this strange sixth sense that something, somewhere was wrong.  
  
Something was wrong. She was sure of it and it was more than the fact that her body had seemingly forgotten how to breathe.  
  
There was no breath, no air. Where was the air? Where did the air go? Surely to god there must be air in this fucking room. Air, please, come back. No air and the scent of phantom blood stinging her nostrils, rich and coppery… almost good, almost appetizing.  
  
No! Nononononoooooo! No air. No sound, but her heartbeat, buzzing in her ears. Pounding, screaming and her blood clamoring through shrieking veins, rushing away from her grasp. Both slowing, slowing, dying. Oh dear god…Not like this! Not like this…safe in her own bed. A slayer dies fighting, not like this! Not with Riley fucking Finn, sleeping peacefully beside her. Not like this!  
  
Buffy kicked out with all her force, sending Riley rocketing to the floor where he impacted with a dull thud and a yelp of pain.  
  
Groggily, the ex-commando sat himself up on the floor gazing at the slayer with a questioning but reproachful expression, blinking in the darkness. "Buffy?"  
  
She scrabbled her legs against the mattress fighting for purchase and swung her arms desperately knocking everything from her bedside table onto the floor. Begging for air, for the pain to stop, begging for help…That she suddenly knew this man could not give her. Not now, not ever.  
  
Because the Slayer part was stepping forward, pushing against the pain and panic because it knew with a purity of faith akin to prophecy that something bad was happening, somewhere close. And every fiber of her being was reacting to it, screaming out in denial.  
  
Someone was dying. This was not her pain, not her death…No this death belonged to someone else.  
  
Someone she loved was dying.  
  
The knowledge came with a blinding flash of pain that finally wrenched a scream from her dry lips. Riley surged to his feet and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend as she fought to push him away; never ceasing the horrific keening that was ripping through his eardrums.  
  
"Buffy! Buffy, please! Stop!" Riley soothed as he brushed long fingers through sweat-laden locks. "Please stop! Honey, tell me what's wrong?"  
  
Some sense seemed to return to her as her screams subsided to watery gasps and bonewracking sobs. It felt like an eternity before the horror subsided enough to allow her to speak. Her heart refused to accept what her senses were trying to tell her. It was just a freaky waking dream thingy. Or perhaps a portent of some bizarre type of prophecy; nothing more personal. People close to her had died before without her body putting any sort of whammy on her. It was crazy. It was probably just a panic attack. God knows, she was not immune to anxiety. The stark terror she had felt upon waking made no sense at all but perhaps it was significant enough to talk to the others about. In a flat monotone, Buffy spoke sharply. "Call, Giles." Not a request, all command.  
  
"At this hour?" Riley questioned, concerned as he gazed at the alarm clock on the bedside table.  
  
"Yes." The slayer replied succinctly as she rose to dress. Ignoring the befuddled and very naked man before her.  
  
"Buffy…"  
  
"Do it!" Buffy warned furiously. Giving into the fear and urgency her vivid terror was still inspiring. When he made no move to comply, besides blinking at her owlishly, she stepped around him and made a grab for the phone. He reached out to take hold of her wrist but chose to forestall any further objections when she buried her elbow in his chest and knocked him forcefully back onto the bed.  
  
For endless moments she hung suspended, torn between fear and anger as the phone rang in her hand. After five rings the receiver in her hand came to life and a sleepy, short-tempered voice barked a less than friendly greeting. "What!"  
  
"Giles?" Buffy, gasped as her legs threatened to drop her to the floor, so great was her relief. Which kicked her anger up a notch further. Damn the Hellmouth and her slayer senses…And damn the fear still hiding in her heart. It made her feel weak, and god but she hated feeling weak.  
  
"Buffy! What's wrong? Did something happen on patrol? Are you injured? What's happened?" The watcher burst forth a staggering number of questions seemingly on a single breath. Almost on the verge of panic himself…Buffy wouldn't call this late…Or early, rather… without a damn good, or at the very least apocalyptic reason. He fought the urge to groan at her reply.  
  
"I don't know." Buffy replied shortly.  
  
"You don't know, what?" Giles replied confused.  
  
Buffy sobbed audibly as Riley moved forward to wrap his arms around her, apparently forgiving her earlier attack. "I don't know what's wrong! I woke up and I couldn't breathe…Something's wrong Giles! In a big bad kind of way."  
  
"As opposed to the 'little' bad kind of way?" Giles intoned dryly. American teenagers…They would be the death of him. The ex-watcher fought the urge to laugh with barely restrained control. Fear was rising within him, riding upon a climbing crest of panic that would be sure to drown him if he didn't keep himself composed. "What do you think is wrong, Buffy?" He tried calmly, he could hear his slayer's sobs on the other end of the phone…And good lord it took a lot to make Buffy cry.  
  
On the other end of the line, Buffy pulled away from Riley's comforting embrace. "I don't know. You call Xander and I'll call Willow, and we'll meet at your place in fifteen minutes…Okay, Giles?"  
  
Giles, finally gave into his urge to groan. No more sleep tonight! Lovely. "Alright, Buffy. I'll see you soon." The watcher replied as he hung up the phone and began dialing Xander's number from memory, cursing under his breath.  
  
***********************************************  
  
Across town Buffy hung up the phone, already dialing Tara's phone number carefully.  
  
"Buffy, what's going on?" Riley asked sulkily, bordering on a less than pretty pout.  
  
"Nothing." The slight blonde replied coolly. Trying desperately to tighten the reins on her spiraling emotions.  
  
"Nothing, Buffy?" Riley griped grasping her arm and turning her to face him.  
  
"You're naked." Buffy pointed out helpfully.  
  
"I'm naked? That's all you have to say to me? What is your problem Buffy?"  
  
Buffy glared at the man before her, as the phone in her hand began to ring. "It's nothing. Absolutely nothing that concerns *you, * Riley."  
  
For the second time that night a sleepy voice picked up the phone on the other end of the line, however Tara's greeting was much more polite that her former Watcher's. Yes, Willow is there. Yes, Willow will meet her at Giles, momentarily. The slayer's hasty request to hear Willow's voice is greeted with confusion, but easy acquiescence.  
  
" 'Lo, Buffy." Willow mutters, blearily.  
  
Buffy's sigh of relief gets an alarmed query. But the slayer mutters an easy albeit meaningless reply and quickly puts the phone back in the cradle. She fights down the urge to call Xander herself. But Giles would've called if he believed anything was wrong. This little drama was over for tonight at least, thank god.  
  
At least that part of it. The worrying about her friends being dead or similarly endangered part. However as Buffy turns to face her still naked and now very morose boyfriend she fought back a very undignified curse. "I've got to go, Riley."  
  
"Since when is your life none of my business?" Riley responds coldly, as if this conversation is actually going to take place here and now.  
  
"I don't have time for this now!" She cries, wanting to tear her own hair out. As beside her the phone sends off one shrill ring before Riley's hand reaches out and rips the offending appliance from the wall, cutting it off mid-squawk.  
  
With wide blue eyes, Buffy can feel her eyeballs nearly popping out in a combination of rage and shock. "You son of a bitch!" She growls. "You don't know what you're doing! And frankly, I don't have time for your insecurities or bravado right now, Ri. Save your Neanderthal act for later, ok? And hey, maybe if you get a big enough club you'll have time to knock me over the head before you drag me into your cave and give me a good talking to!"  
  
"Jesus, Buffy. Why are you being like this? What's gotten into you!" Buffy rolls her eyes in frustration. Riley's pulling out the big guns tonight; big bambi-esque eyes gazing at her like she'd just shot his damn mother or something.  
  
There is no more time to waste here, she has no more time. The aborted ringing of the phone is jangling in her mind and ripping at her last nerve. Why did Giles call back? Why? Because with that same certainty she had felt earlier, she knew that it had been Giles on the other end of that yanked cord. Bad, bad, bad things were going from bad to worse as they stood yammering at each other.  
  
In her head she knew that she owed Riley more than this but it was beyond her will to give. She had nothing more to offer him tonight. Her nerves were shot and her heart was clenched somewhere in the vicinity of her throat. Right now, Riley didn't matter. This conversation didn't matter, nothing mattered but whatever Giles would've said had she answered that fucking phone. Tomorrow, when whatever insanity had abducted her mind had eased it's grip she would probably regret her treatment of this kind- hearted man, but right now he was simply in the way. "We'll talk later, Riley." Buffy responded as she whirled away from him. "Lock the door on your way out." The slayer responded dismissing him from her attentions like he was nothing at all.  
  
  
  
She didn't see the hurt that crossed his face, didn't feel his indignation at being dismissed like a common whore. In fact she had practically forgotten he existed by the time she reached the stairs. All she knew was a bone deep, blind panic as she began to full out run towards Giles apartment. 


	2. Into the Darkness II : Lost (2/2)

From: Aslan (aslan_g@lycos.com)  
  
Title: ITD: II - LOST  
  
Series/Sequel: Into The Darkness  
  
Author: Aslan  
  
E-mail: aslan_g@lycos.com  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: Buffy finally wakes up but is it too late to make a difference?  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the BTVS Characters, Joss Whedon, The WB and Mutant Enemy own them, etc, etc. I only own the story and any original characters I create along the way.  
  
Distribution: If you want it, please ask. And let me know where it is.  
  
Feedback: Does Riley love cows? Laws, yes!  
  
Spoilers: Umm…Not really. Anya's gone. She flew away, somewhere without letting me know where. Xander's still living in the basement. Buffy is with Riley. Spike's still chipped.  
  
Author's Note: My computer ate my first draft of this. gggrrrrrrrrr!!!!! It was way better.  
  
Need feedback…desperate for it. Pretty please? I'll love you forever!  
  
Song lyrics, belong to whoever wrote the song…And to Holly Cole, I guess. I was listening to it as I wrote and just decided to paste it before the story. *g * I was also listening to 'The Tea Party'… Walking Wounded is an excellent song.  
  
  
  
Make it go away, Or make it better…  
  
Isn't that what love's supposed to do?  
  
Make it go away, or make it better,  
  
I would do either one for you.  
  
Holly Cole, "Make It Go Away."  
  
  
  
Giles apartment was a beacon of light, glittering in the distance as she ran. Pulling her towards it like a compass to true north. It was home, safe and comfortable…Please god, let it be safe. Let them all be safe. She would give up her life tonight, happily, joyously if only, she could go knowing that the people who meant the most to her were safe.  
  
Gasping and clawing for breath she threw open Giles door without knocking, desperate for knowledge. She counted heads as they popped up to stare at her. Four heads. Two blonde. One brown. One Red. And was disappointed and frightened almost beyond her ability to endure. Spike, Tara, Giles and Willow stared at her in confusion and expectation.  
  
Xander was not here. Xander was missing. No…Oh god no.  
  
"Where's Xander?" Dropped roughly from her lips before her mind had even formulated the question.  
  
"I tried to call you, Buffy. I couldn't reach him. Perhaps he had to work late tonight. I'm sure there is some reasonable explanation…Buffy! Buffy! Where are you going?"  
  
With a worried look after his Slayer Giles glared at the blonde vampire occupying *his * couch. "Go after her, Spike."  
  
"No bloody way!" Spike replied emphatically. Slutty was in a mood today and getting staked for pissing her ass off was not in his plans for the night.  
  
"Spike!" Giles hissed.  
  
"What's innit fer me, Watcher?" Spike grinned cattily.  
  
"Not getting staked right now for starters!" Giles gritted out.  
  
"Not much incentive there, Watcher." The blonde smirked.  
  
Willow squeaked in alarm. "What's happening, Giles?" Her alarm spiked rapidly as Giles spoke again, still glaring at the bleached vampire.  
  
"Anything. Anything, you want Spike. Just make sure they're alright."  
  
Spike's head jerked up in surprise to meet the watcher's eyes. But he only nodded and took off after the retreating slayer. She was easy to follow. He simply trailed the scent of fear and adrenaline drifting on the cool night air.  
  
"Giles…" Willow breathed questioningly. Fear dripping from her voice, begging for a reassurance he could not give. He had no idea what was going on. How can you comfort a fear you cannot name? What the hell was going on! With trepidation he moved towards the phone and again dialed Xander's number…This time he prayed, as he listened to the hollow ringing of the phone in his ear. Please, god. Let the boy answer. Please.  
  
As he begged favors from a god in whom he no longer believed, Willow turned to her girlfriend in misery. And the blonde wordlessly offered her the comfort he was unable to give.  
  
************************************************************  
  
Spike caught up to the slayer on the steps of Xander's hovel. She was staring senselessly at the door as though it held the answers to life's great mysteries in a simple patchwork of wood and metal. It took him a few moments to understand her intense perusal of such an ordinary object. Then it hit him.  
  
The door was ajar.  
  
An open door on the hellmouth, from someone who ordinarily knew better did not indicate happy times to come.  
  
He turned his full attention on the slayer with appraising eyes. She was paler than he was, which was saying a lot…When you're paler than the dead something is seriously not right. She was also crying. Shaky and looking closer to shock than at any time he'd ever seen her. She looked like she'd received a killing blow and just hadn't had the sense to drop dead like any normal person would have before now.  
  
She turned to him with wide crystalline blue eyes. "Spike, what are you doing here?" But she didn't wait for him to answer. Nothing was computing. She was struggling to gather the threads of her consciousness together. Something was very wrong here. There was something knocking upon her brain with a ragged kind of insistence. But she couldn't make it out, couldn't open that door. Open doors…Xander's door was open. Bad, bad door. Stupid Xander. Stupid door. Doors were made to be closed. That was their sole purpose. Didn't this door know that? Why wasn't it closed?  
  
"Why isn't the door closed, Spike?" Buffy wheedled in a lilting, childish voice. "Close the door, Spike. Make it stop. Make it go away."  
  
Spike gaped in utter disbelief. Christ, the wheels were still spinning but the gerbil was dead. The slayer had finally gone round the loony bin. "Slayer, maybe you oughta sit down?" Bloody hell! Pandering to the slayer! When the hell had he started channeling the bloody poof and why hadn't someone mentioned how fucked up he was before today.  
  
He looked at her as though she was about to snap. Like she was straddling the edge of some great abyss, getting ready to fall over that edge with very little provocation and mostly likely ready to drag him down kicking and screaming with her. Like she had a hair-trigger and was seconds from going postal.  
  
He enunciated each word clearly, repeating himself as if to a child. "Buffy, maybe you should sit down? Take a rest, luv?" Preferably no staking until you come back to the happy world of sanity, Christ a crazy slayer! Just what the world needed!  
  
She was in a daze, couldn't think straight. Something was wrong. If she could just go back in time and make sure that goddamn door was closed. That Xander was safe. God, not Xander, anyone but Xander. Hadn't she made enough sacrifices by now? Not this too. Dear, god…When had he come to mean this much to her? Held so dear? How had he managed to breach all her defenses? And how the hell had she failed to notice it? To notice him? And if that damn door hid behind it what she feared, how would she be able to go on without him? Would she even want to?  
  
She started forward one step at a time. Her traitorous body fighting against her with every step she took. She had no control over her own body anymore, no control over anything. It was just a door. A stupid fucking door. Except it was a stupid fucking *open * door. Nobody leaves a door open on the hellmouth… purposely. No, doors were made to close, made to lock…You always, lock doors on the hellmouth. Always. Doors do not stay open. Open doors upon the hellmouth were a dark invitation.  
  
A dark temptation.  
  
Her hand came to rest on the offending object, as hesitation took root.  
  
"Just open the fucking door!" She cried, furious with her fear, hating this reminder of her weakness.  
  
Wow. Tonight was full of firsts wasn't it? An unexpected bounty. First watching the slayer cry and then hearing her curse. Of course her mounting insanity was also a bit of surprise…but whatever. Spike smirked coldly. "You first, Luv."  
  
But the words were lost on her before they even left his mouth. They had no effect on her. As far as Buffy was concerned she was alone on Xander's basement steps. It was too cold and too dark for her to be anything but alone. She was lost.  
  
Once past the door they made their way with surprising ease down the steps into Xander's inner sanctum. It was surprisingly clean and orderly, only a few meager pieces of clothing littered here and there across the floor. There were no signs of struggle…No blood. Buffy felt hope blossoming within her chest. She idly picked up a stray shirt wadded into a ball by her foot. It smelt of cool, clean sweat and Xander. She felt her heart ache, when next she was close enough to touch him she would take hold and never let go. Never.  
  
But that hope died a quick brutal death, ripping her faith open as it died. Beside her Spike was shuddering. Taking in large completely unneeded breaths, gameface on. As she moved towards him she could smell it too.  
  
Blood.  
  
Thick and heady, not a lot but enough that even a human could catch the scent. Following Spike's riveted gaze, she saw it, one word scrawled elegantly across the wall by the door. Written carefully, in a curly-cue, feminine hand. Glaring, down at them darkly, accusingly.  
  
One word.  
  
'SOON'  
  
Spike stared at the bloody signature, speaking without thought. His voice full of awe and something like fear. "Dru."  
  
Buffy stared at her unwitting escort. Fear ripping through her body leaving her even more shaky and exhausted than before. Fighting to control the madness that seemingly wanted to swallow her whole and the begging tone wheedling it's way into her voice. She would not beg Spike for anything, not even this. "Dru?"  
  
Spike groaned. "Ah, Dru…What've ya done?"  
  
"Spike?" Buffy cried in alarm.  
  
He could run. He could lie. But somehow he couldn't bring himself to do either. Perhaps because this girl had refused to stake him, despite the fact that he'd given her ample reasons to do so. Or perhaps because the boy had been the only one who had not actively pitied him. She would learn the truth sooner or later, Dru would make sure of that.  
  
Dru would wipe the pretty slayer's nose in this like a puppy being punished for making a mess. And how fitting, after all that's what this was, a mess. Madness. When the slayer came to her senses she would destroy them all. This Slayer was territorial by nature, persistent at best and vengeful at her worst.  
  
She would not let the boy go without a fight.  
  
She'd defend him like a lioness fighting to protect her cub, all teeth and claws. This stupidly noble girl would fight to the death to protect her little friends, especially the boy. You don't take from a slayer…Especially this slayer, unless you want to find yourself on the wrong end of a stake. Dru had opened the proverbial Pandora's box this time and nothing was going to close it again…  
  
Spike stepped back a few feet and uttered the three words that cut through the slayer like the final nails into her coffin. Completely finishing her off.  
  
"She's turned him."  
  
He needn't have worried about being staked. Buffy was an insensate puddle upon the basement floor before Spike had even finished speaking. She was utterly and completely lost into the darkness that had suddenly engulfed her life. 


End file.
